Snow Angels
by Rb
Summary: Daiken. Fairly fluffy, with some angst thrown in to balance it out.


I really get inspired by my surroundings. ^_^ This fic was inspired almost entirely by the snowfall Thursday afternoon and evening, along with a couple old memories of mine. 

This fic has, along with occasional spots of angst and fluff, a good amount of** shounen ai**. Shounen ai means, literally, "boy love." In other words, there's slash. But no sex. I'm too pure and innocent to include sex.

...

Why are you all looking at me so strangely? Anyway, I fudged around with the ages in the fic. Davis is twelve, almost thirteen, Ken's thirteen, going on fourteen, June's eighteen, and Sam (if he had lived) would also be eighteen. I have no idea if that's accurate, but I realized while I was writing this fic that it doesn't exactly *fit* in the timeline, so...uh...there was a freak snowstorm in late summer. It could happen. ^_-

I don't own Ken, Davis, their digimon, their souls, their (possible? Not very...-_-;;) relationship, their clothing, their...okay, I don't own them. But I wish I did, just to say "Hah-hah, I own Davis's SOUL!" Hey, that's not a bad idea...

**Snow Angels  
by Rb**

The snow is so quiet, hush hush hush, everything still except for the clanging of the bells across the street. The bells make a silver sound in the gentle breeze of the night.   
  
The ground is white and thick and fluffy, the sky a pale pink-grey mixture. The street lights have cast an orange glow over the road. The air is cold and crisp and enveloping, compelling. I take a bit of the snow and eat it. It tastes of nothing, then of metal, of a harsh tang.  
  
I'm in a t-shirt and soft pants, not anything warm, but the cold isn't so biting, it isn't cruel. In a way, it's warm; it's warmer than my own heart.   
  
I remember a night like this, years ago, when the snow had fallen thick and fast all day and tapered off to a slow gentle dust at night, just like this. Mom and Dad wouldn't let us out during the day, but at night they finally let us play. The sky was a pink-orange, I remember, and it was late and cool and I wasn't tired, I was energetic, playing in the snow but heavily bundled up nonetheless.   
  
I played with my brother. Sam and I were laughing and shouting as the other neighborhood kids joined us. We threw snowballs and made forts. I made a snow angel but Sam stepped in it by accident and I got upset, so he laid down in the fresh powder with me and we made a line of them, neat and perfect in the snow.  
  
There are no kids playing this evening. It's too late for them, and the snow has covered their marks.   
  
I'm alone. I turn my face to the sky and let the snow fall in my hair, my eyes, my mouth. It's been said that every single snowflake is different and unique. I don't know if I believe it. There's so many, and not all can be documented. Surely, some must overlap...  
  
With six billion souls, none are the same...  
  
I let the stillness envelope me. It's not good for me to be alone, I don't like it. But Minomon was asleep and I don't want to disturb the little guy, so I went out alone, and...it's so quiet, even the wind has stopped, and the only sound is the particles of snow hitting my head.  
  
"Hey! Ken!"  
  
My head whips around. Before I recognize the voice, my body stiffens.   
  
"Davis?" I call in shock. There's no mistaking the boy, though, his not-quite-familiar features, his welcoming smile. "What are you doing here?" While our apartment buildings aren't too far away, I never expected to see him here, at such a time, in such a way, looking as if he was looking for me, the person, not the digidestined, not the former Emperor.   
  
He comes closer, closer, until he can grip my arm, which he does. "It turns out Demiveemon's never seen a snowfall in the our world before. I wanted to show it to him." He unzips his bulky jacket a little with his free hand, and the little blue digimon's head pops out.  
  
"Ken, isn't it great? The air's so fresh, and the snow's so clean!" he says excitedly.  
  
"Yes, Demiveemon," I say slowly. "It is nice."  
  
"Nice doesn't even begin to describe it, Ken!" Davis chides me, laughing. "It's too great to be summed up in a word like that."  
  
"Mm," I say. Not really agreeing, not really disagreeing.   
  
"Loosen up, Ken!" says Davis, clasping his hand on my shoulder, then awkwardly taking it away. "It's a gorgeous night. Don't pout like that, you know you like it."  
  
"I'm not pouting."  
  
"What're you doing, then?" asks his digimon.  
  
"Thinking. Contemplating."  
  
"About?" Davis presses.  
  
"None of your business," I say without thinking, and Davis's face falls. I turn away. I don't want to see his disappointment. I can manufacture enough for myself.  
  
"Ken," he says, turning to face me, "you can't shut me out. Look at this night! You can't not share it with anyone." He smiles. "It's too perfect to keep to yourself selfishly."  
  
"You have your digimon to share it with," I point out.  
  
Nonplused, he continues. "Even better. We can all share it! You can get out Minomon, and the four of us can share it!"   
  
"The last person I shared a night like this," I say coldly, "was my brother." I turn around and move to go into my apartment building's door.  
  
A snowball hits my back and stops me cold.  
  
"Afraid of having fun, Kenny?" teases Davis.  
  
"That's it. You're dead," I say, and pick up some snow. It's perfect for snowballs, slightly wet and it's molding perfectly in my bare hands. I fling it at Davis and there's a comforting smack and yelp.  
  
"Ken!" he calls, and for a few minutes there's a fast and furious snowball fight. He's laughing, I'm laughing, Demiveemon's yelping, and our voices blend together and form a pattern that arcs out across the white, silent snow. It goes from war to laughter to just a dance of life.  
  
But in our crazy dance, Davis bumps into me, bumps into my chest -- his eyes were closed, he wasn't looking. And I, I attempt to catch him, to hold him up, to hold him in my arms, but his mass is too great, and we carreen to the pavement, him still enveloped in my arms.  
  
I can feel his heart beating next to mine in a steady, easy thrum. I wonder if he can feel my own heart, how it's beating faster, faster, faster until I'm afraid I'll explode.  
  
"Uhh.."  
  
"Ken, are you all right?" He turns around, almost breaking my unintended embrace, his body heat searing me even through our clothing.   
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You're soaked." He scrambles off me and helps pick me up. He holds my hand in his own gloved one. "Gah, Ken, you're all red and cold..." I guess I am wet, but so is he. I'm not even cold, but Davis looks worried.  
  
"We've gotta get you inside," Dr. Davis diagnoses, so we troop inside and into my apartment. I unlock the door and look at the clock on the wall. 12:30 AM. My parents are asleep. They're such sound sleepers, they wouldn't wake up if a bomb went off.  
  
I show Davis into my room. "You're soaked, too. Here, I'll take a shower and change, you can change into some of my clothes in my room. Wake up Minomon, he's asleep in my bed. I'm sure he'll be glad to see Demiveemon."  
  
I take a hot shower, scrubbing away the cold. Then I change into a sweatshirt and pants I simply found in my drawer. I don't remember when I got most of my clothes. I don't remember a lot. My wet hair drips water onto my shoulders and neck, down my spine.   
  
Davis is sitting at my computer chair, swiveled around to face Minomon and Demiveemon playing on the floor. He's wearing one of my school uniforms, which is too big on him but I wouldn't tell him that. His goggles are on the floor, along with the rest of his wet clothing. Automatically, I start picking them up.   
  
"I'm sorry, Ken," Davis apologizes.  
  
"No problem," I say.   
  
He starts reaching for his clothing as well. Our fingers brush. I pull back. He reaches forward and grabs my hand.  
  
"I'm sorry for starting the snowball fight," he says, and I see that in his warm dark hand, my own hand is thin and red. "I didn't realize how you were dressed."  
  
"It's my own fault for going out in such a way," I say, feeling the heat from him warm me more completely than any shower.   
  
"But I -- "  
  
"Davis."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Shuddup." I pull my hand away from him to punch him on the shoulder.   
  
He laughs. "All right, all right...Hey, Ken, you know what's traditional for a snowy night like this?"  
  
"What?" I ask.  
  
Davis winks. "Hot chocolate!"  
  
Demiveemon perks up from the game he was playing with Minomon, his ears sticking straight up. "Chocolate?"  
  
"Yeah, in liquid form!" Davis laughs. "Plenty for you, you little pigmon."  
  
"I am not a pig, Davis!" Demiveemon sniffs.  
  
"Close enough." Davis picks up Demiveemon. "C'mon, Ken, you have some, right?"  
  
"Yeah..." I lead the way to the kitchen after scooping up Minomon and putting him in my arms, where he belongs.  
  
I nustle around in the kitchen, finding the big green kettle, setting it on the stove, finding four cups and spoons, and basically losing myself in busywork so I don't have to see Davis's eyes watching me.  
  
The kettle whistles, and I hurry, splashing the steaming water into the cups and stirring the chocolate mix in. I set the cups on the table. Demiveemon and Minomon sit on the table and slurp happily.   
  
But Davis isn't at the table. He's standing, studying something. My stomach chills as I walk up behind him and see what he's looking at.  
  
It's the picture of Sam.  
  
"Who...who's that?" Davis asks, looking shocked. For the first time, I see Sam as another must see him, looking like...  
  
...if you shade the glasses and darken his clothing, lengthen the hair...  
  
...but after all, wasn't he the reason I was trying...  
  
"He's not me," I say flatly. "He's not the Emperor."  
  
"Who?" he asks, still surprised. I can't imagine what Davis must be going through, seeing an old enemy in a 'safe' place. I can't imagine what I've done to him.   
  
I pick up the picture. "He's my brother, Sam."  
  
"Your brother?" His face blanks. "The one who..."  
  
"Died." Minomon looks up from his hot chocolate at my tone, and so does Demiveemon; I note ironically that Demiveemon has a chocolate mustache.  
  
"Ken," Minimon breathes, "don't blame yourself."  
  
"I don't." I place the photo down.  
  
"Your brother...how old was he?"  
  
"Twelve. Almost thirteen."  
  
Davis's breath catches. "And how long ago was it?"  
  
"Six years," I say bitterly.  
  
"Six years...he was my sister's age."  
  
"You had a sister?"  
  
"Have." He smiles sheepishly. "Her name's June."  
  
"Oh," I say. Resentment lances through me. Why is his sibling alive while mine is dead?  
  
That's not fair. I wouldn't want anyone to feel the pain I've been through. I've had to carry it on my own shoulders, I've gotten used to the weight, and I wouldn't want to weigh down someone like Davis with the weight.  
  
I shared it with Minomon, but Minomon's like a part of me, my heart, my strength. Davis is different. He's so optimistic and happy, I don't want to burden him.  
  
I turn away and sit down at my place at the table. Minomon, abandoning his already-finished hot chocolate, settles down into my arms.   
  
Davis follows more slowly, his expression thoughtful. However, his expression changes as soon as he looks from his empty cup to Demiveemon's guilty face.  
  
"Demiveemon! You drank all of my hot chocolate!"  
  
"And some of Ken's," Demiveemon says sheepishly. "But Minomon helped!"  
  
Davis facefaults. I laugh uncertainly. "We can make more..."  
  
"It's the principle of the thing," Davis explains as I heated up more water. "He always eats my food! It's so unfair. I'm a growing boy, too!"  
  
I pour more. This time, Davis guards his serving from Demiveemon carefully. I'm not very thirsty, and I share much of my drink with Minomon.   
  
"Even if they are bottomless pits," I say softly, "they deserve it. They work hard."  
  
"Mm-hmm," agrees Davis, as he lifts one hand to rub the burgeoning belly of Demiveemon.   
  
The silence stretches between us. Finally, I break it. "What's it like to have an older sister?"  
  
"Ehh? Um...I guess...she can be embarrassing," Davis starts cautiously. "She obsesses over guys, lots of guys, and she bothers me sometimes." He gives me a look. "What do you want to know?"  
  
"Just...about her."  
  
So he talks, about his older sister June and her mannerisms, and how she always grills him about his friends' older brothers, and how she's almost always out on dates, how she didn't use to be like this, when they were younger they were closer, but...   
  
I listen to Davis talk and zone out. I wonder if I would complain about Sam like he complains about June.  
  
The sad truth is -- I probably would. I wouldn't appreciate what I had. I wouldn't love him like I should...  
  
I might wish for his death again...  
  
"You know what I hate most?" I say, interrupting Davis.  
  
"Ken," says Minomon, "don't dwell on what you hate."  
  
I ignore him. "I hate most knowing that I've done such awful things." I don't look at Davis while I say this; I focus on the wall. I don't want to see him. I don't want to look him in the eye and see his innocent face...  
  
"Ken..." Minomon nudges his head against my hand, but I don't pay attention. It'll make what I have to say to Davis even harder. But I have to make the other boy understand...  
  
"Once something is known, it can't be unknown. I know I can become evil again. Once it's done, it can be easier and easier to do, and I've done so many horrible things with my own two hands. I don't even understand how you can stand to look at me."   
  
"Stop it, Ken!" Minomon wails, distraught. "You aren't like that anymore! You're kind, Ken, you're kind. You don't have to hate yourself any longer, it's not you anymore!"  
  
"Minomon, hush," I whisper. I steel up my courage and look Davis in the eye. "I'm not a good person. How can you be so kind to me? Especially after what I've done to you, I hated you. I wanted to...to kill you and your digimon...I was so evil, how can you stand me at all?" I look down, my energy and passion spent. Minomon wriggles and I absently stroke him with one hand, preparing myself for Davis's angry words or, even worse, his leaving me entirely...  
  
But I had to be mean to him. He's so warm, so caring. I could depend on him. I could trust him. I could, just maybe, love him...and I can't do that to anyone, I can't trust other people with my pain, I can't burden them with my sins. I feel bad about burdening Minomon sometimes...I couldn't hurt Davis. Not anymore. Not even if I tried.  
  
Which is why I have to try to seperate us, before it's too late..  
  
"But you're not," said Davis. I look up in shock. He's still sitting down, his brown eyes wide and open as ever, his mouth...his mouth turned up at the edges. A smile. A gentle, knowing smile.   
  
"Davis..."  
  
"You're not like that any longer, Ken. You're kind, anyone can see it -- except, maybe, yourself." His smile grows wider. "I can see you, Ken, and I know your heart. You won't be cruel anymore -- you've got Minomon to care for." A faint blush spreads across his cheeks. "And others to care for, too...?"  
  
Embarrassed, I run my free hand through my still-wet hair. "Enh."   
  
Davis grins and stands up. He walks over to where I'm sitting, places the comforting weight of his hand on my shoulder, and leans down to whisper in my ear, so quietly that I don't think Minomon can hear. "And you're not alone, either. You're not the only one who walks the line between angel and devil. You're not the only one who's worn a mask." I can feel the heat radiating from his body to combat my coldness...  
  
...it's not such a bad feeling.  
  
"Davis?" I turn my head, my mind -- and heart -- full of questions...  
  
...and he doesn't move in reaction to my own movement...  
  
...his lips brush against my cheek.  
  
We both jerk apart in surprise and shock. Davis blushes furiously, and my cheeks feel hot, hotter, as if they were on fire.   
  
"I...I...I..." stammers Davis.  
  
I smile. It feels odd to smile, really smile, with all your heart. "I...it's all right, Davis."  
  
I feel scared, I can feel my heart beating faster and faster. I don't know what to do. If I was braver, more affectionate, I could...  
  
But I'm putting all my effort into steadying my breath, because just the feel of his lips on my cheek sent electric shocks down every nerve...  
  
..at least he seems to feel the same way.  
  
Demiveemon snores. It's such an ordinary sound that it makes me jump and Davis laugh nervously.   
  
"Oh, man!" whispers Davis. "What time is it?"   
  
"Nearly 1:30," I wince.  
  
"My parents are outta town tonight, but June's at a party and she's due back by two, I've gotta get home." Davis picks up Demiveemon and looks down at his -- my -- clothing. "Uhh, Ken?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Could I, uh, keep this clothing tonight and return your things tomorrow?" he pleads.  
  
Considering his clothing is still wet, I would have to be truly cruel to say no. And -- my fingers creep up and touch my cheek -- I'm not truly cruel any longer. "Sure, Davis."  
  
"And tomorrow I'll come back, and we can do something," he says casually, "maybe see a movie or something."  
  
"Yeah. I'd like that." I'm unable to keep a smile off my face. It's odd how it feels as if it belongs there.  
  
"Good. It's a d -- a promise."  
  
I find him a coat to wear in the cool night. He holds Demiveemon close to him as I open the door with a half-asleep Minomon clinging to my shoulder . We stand awkwardly in the doorstep, neither of us knowing how to cement our new understanding.  
  
"Well, good night," I say finally.  
  
"Good night," he answers, his white teeth flashing in the semi-darkness of the hall. He turns to leave.  
  
I grab him by the sleeve. "Wait," I say shyly, my voice a hoarse whisper.  
  
He stops. "Ken?"  
  
"Davis...I owe you one." Hesitantly, I grip his sleeve as I reach out, my eyes closed...  
  
...and kiss him gently on the cheek.  
  
"Thank you," he says, just as shyly. He walks away, but I'm all right with that -- because I know he'll come back.

Minomon sighs happily as I close the door and turn back to my own room. "Ahh, Ken..."

"Minomon?"

"I'm glad you can open your heart to him. He's almost as kind as you."

Smile. "I know."

I sleep with Minomon sharing my pillow, one arm loosely embracing him, as always. For the first night in weeks, months, maybe even years, my dreams aren't haunted by images of my own cruelty and darkness; instead, I see warm brown eyes and smiles and warmth, with feelings hotter than the sun.

I wake up early like I always do, even after such a late night. The sun reveals herself from behind her blankets of clouds, turning the sky briliant colors. I open my window and look out.

In the freshly-fallen snow below my window, there's two snow angels, their wings brushing. Footsteps lead from the snow angels down the street in the path that Davis must take to go to his apartment.

And yes, the snow will melt in the heat of the sun, and the water will run into the earth or up to the sky and disappear. It doesn't mean that it won't have been, but that it won't be in the future. Because ever day, every moment you live your life, you change it, you change yourself.

I mean to change myself for the better in the future. It's possible, I know it.

Especially when I'll have others to help me change.


End file.
